Small Bump
by LiveInTheMusic
Summary: Katniss and Peeta are madly in love 5 years after the war has ended. They have a completely normal and happy life minus the horrid nightmares and flashbacks , until Katniss finds out she is pregnant. Will she want the baby? How will she be as a mother? Can she handle another life, while hers was still unstable? One-Shot. WARNING: Mentions of a miscarage.


A/N: WARNING. BIG WARNING. READ THIS A/N AND I'LL EXPLAIN.

First off, this will have mentions on a miscarage. I refuse to write anything more than T, and I don't see a point in putting this in M rating if it isn't, well, perverted. It talks about having a baby, okay? Nothing much about making the baby. So please, don't get your arrows in a wad. (See what I did there?) Anywho, this will be sad. VERY SAD. So if you can't handle the mentions of a miscarage, DO NOT READ THIS. I REPEAT; IF YOU CAN'T HADLE THE MENTIONS OF A MISCARAGE, DO NOT READ.

Okeydokey folks, now to my personal chiz. Hello, to all who may be reading. I am LiveInTheMusic. This is my 3ed fanfic, my 1st one shot, and it will be my 1st completed. YAY!(: This has NOTHING to do with my other 2 stories, I repeat, NOTHINGGGGG! So don't expect it to have the same plot-line, because you'd have a big bucket of Oh-Hell-Nah. BUT, if you haven't read my other 2 stories, I strongly recommend to.(: They aren't as sad as this will be.

This story mentions that this is set 5 years after the war.

This story was inspired by the songs Small Bump by Ed Sheeran, and Ronan by Taylor Swift. I DO NOT OWN THE SONG SMALL BUMP OR RONAN, OR THE HUNGER GAMES. That is owned by the lovely Suzanne Collins, the amazing Taylor Swift, and the freaking brilliant Ginger Jesus. If you don't know who he is, you are living under a rock. My stories shall save you. If you for some reason do not like my Ginger Jesus, you are lying to yourself. Kidding, have your own opinion. I don't care.(:

Fav it, Alert it, Like it, but whatever you do, REVIEW!(:

I bite my lip as I peer down at the test. It can't be right. It just, it can't be. I let my head fall into my hands, my elbows digging into my knees. How could have this happened? I mean, we were so careful... I feel my skin burn where the test makes contact with it. Just a reminder that I never wanted kids. But, Peeta did...I know he did. Every time we pass by a group of kids, he will get that longing look in his eyes. He tries to tell me I will be a great mother, but I am never so sure.

"Katniss? Katniss, are you all right, love?"

Even in the situation I am in, I still can't help but smile. I adore it when he calls me "love," "sweetie," "Kat"; anything he can think of. If it were anyone else, I would shoot one of my arrows right through their vital organs. But, Peeta...Peeta is different. He loves me, unconditionally. Even when I am a total bitch to him, he still loves me. I guess that's why the first time he ever called me anything other than my name, I kissed him—in the middle of him talking—and he was shocked, but very, very, delighted. From then on, he rarely ever uses my name (only when he was being 100% serious); he just calls me by the sweet nicknames that he can say so easily.

I open the door to the bathroom and see Peeta's very worried face. I don't blame him for being scared or worried. When I had gotten home from the hospital with the test, I ran straight up to our bathroom, ignored his questioning from his art room down the hall, and closed and locked the door. I stayed like that for the whole test, while Peeta stood outside the door, waiting for me. He hasn't even the slightest clue of what was going on.

"Peeta..." I stare up into his bright blue eyes. They are gorgeous, even if they are filled with worry. His lips are parted slightly, his eyebrows dipping ever so slightly, just like they always do when he is confused. I take a step forward and wrap my arms around his waist. He accepts my embrace without hesitation, but I can feel his slight quickening in heartbeat. It is just so adorable how concerned he is over me. "Katniss..."

"Hush," I say, pulling away slightly. I look up into his eyes again, and somehow muster up enough courage to say, "Peeta, I'm pregnant."

I watch as Peeta's eyes switch from worry, to confusion, to happiness all in a matter of seconds. "What?"

"I'm pregnant, Peeta." His smile grows quickly, and before he even responds, he kisses me hard, wrapping his strong arms tightly around my waist. He picks me up and spins me in circles. I pull away from the kiss and laugh. Peeta sets me onto the ground then kisses me again.

"Katniss! A baby! We're having a baby! Ours! A baby all ours!" His smile is enough to make the room seem even brighter. He smiles so hard; little dimples begin to form in his cheeks. I giggle and kiss him, just to get him to stop smiling, but even while I kiss him I can feel his smile. "Oh, Kat. I can't wait! I'll have to paint the nursery! And we'll have to get a bed, and clothes, and food, and dippers, and-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, slow down there, cowboy. The baby is still just a fertilized egg. For the test to work, I have to be at least two weeks in. So that means-"

"Cowboy? Oh, and eight months and 2-3 weeks until we have our baby." Peeta finishes for me, still smiling. I smile back at him, just as bright.

I thought being a mother was going to be horrible, I never wanted to bring a child into this world, into the terror I had to live, but now that the war was five years behind us, now that I have Peeta. It all didn't seem so bad anymore. Just seeing Peeta so happy about having a baby with me... It makes me happy, too.

I kiss his cheek lightly, "C'mon, Peeta. Let's go tell Haymitch we're having a baby."

He smiles and happily follows me out of the room, "So, I'm a cowboy now?"

2 Months into the Pregnancy

I smile as Peeta drags his nose gently across my abdomen. With his legs straddling my hips, and his hands resting next to my stomach, I can't move, even if I want to. He leaves a small trail of kisses across my bare, small baby bump, murmuring his love for me while doing it.

I am exhausted from a long day of hunting, and I insist that we get some rest, but Peeta wants to see the baby, not literally see it, but he wants to look at my small bump. He loves doing this, and he does it every night before we sleep. He will lift my shirt up, just enough to see my stomach completely, and then he will run his calloused fingers across the area, leaving kisses wherever he can.

He loves this baby so much already, and it is only two months into my pregnancy. Peeta had begun to work on the nursery before the first month was even over. We don't know what the gender is, but Peeta insists it will be a baby girl. He says he has a feeling it was, and I trust him. He painted the room a bright pink color.

The room is almost completely finished, now. Peeta has taken off from work a few days every week, and the days he does work he will come home early. He wants to finish the nursery, and he is worried about me. I tell him not to, but he does anyways, because that's what Peeta does; he looks after me.

I still go hunting every day. It is starting to become a bit of a challenge with my growing bump, but I don't let that stop me. I like the feel of the sun on my shoulders, the wind on my face, and not to mention the smell of the pine trees. I do take it easy when I am out in the woods, most of the time. I'm not going to let a small setback like being pregnant affect my hunting.

I hike the long trek out to the lake every day, and then I admire its beauty and wonder how Peeta is able to capture the gloriousness of it all in his paintings he makes after only being out here twice. He is amazing, really, in just everything he does. He cares for me so much, and I just know that he cares for this baby just as much as he cares for me.

Peeta insists we choose a name now, that way we won't be rushed in the later months. LillyAnn, if it was a girl, and Damian, if it was a boy. Peeta has his heart set on that little girl, though. He told me this one night, not too long ago, while he was watching me try to rest. He said, "I will love the baby no matter what it is, but I want a girl, Katniss. I want a beautiful little girl, who will be just like her mother, with those grey eyes I love, but with my hair." I smiled when he said this, but told him I wanted a boy. A little boy that I could teach to hunt like his mother, but still had the kindness and grace of his father's heart. Peeta smiled, like he always did.

"I'll hold your body in my hands, be as gentle as I can, and now you're a scan on my unmade plans." I smile as Peeta begins to softly sing to the baby. I rarely tell him, but his voice is like honey in my ears. It's strong, yet so gentle. It's deep, but still has that boyish quality that only Peeta can have. His singing voice makes me melt.

"I'll whisper quietly; I'll give you nothing but truth. If you're not inside me, I'll put my future in you."

I feel the warmth of his breath tickling my skin, his nose dragging while his voice rings out. Warmth washes over my body, like it always does when he sings to the baby, and I smile. I figure this is the tiny baby responding to its father's voice. When I went in for my first check-up, the baby was so tiny, with only a form and no features. The doctor said that I was still too early in the stages of pregnancy to see anything yet, but I was still so excited. Peeta had to leave the room because of the happy tears that clouded his eyes.

"You are my one, and only. You can wrap your fingers around my thumb, and hold me tight. Oh you are my one, and only. You can wrap your fingers around my thumb, and hold me tight, and you'll be all right."

I smile as my hands find Peeta's hair. He stops singing and looks up at me, a smile gracing his lips. His eyes shine as he moves up my body, stopping when his head is hovering over my own.

"I love you, Katniss Everdeen."

I close my eyes and smile. "Say it again, Peeta. Tell me you love me."

"I love you, Katniss. I love you to the moon and back again. I love you as wide as the ocean and as deep as the sky. I love you, I love you so much."

I pull his head down gently, kissing him tenderly. He doesn't hesitate in kissing me back, his right hand still resting on my stomach.

"I love you, too, Peeta Mellark."

"Marry me, Katniss."

I pull away and search his eyes. He wants this. He wants me, the baby, marriage; he wants it all. The hope and pure love in his eyes are undeniable. He doesn't just want this, he needs this. We both do.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes."

I kiss him hard, holding him close. "I love you so much, Peeta."

"I love you, too, Kat."

4 Months into the Pregnancy

I smile as I watch Peeta from my spot on the counter. He is standing next to me, kneading the dough to make cheesy bread. I watched his arms with great interest as I bite into my third cupcake. My appetite had grown greatly ever since I became pregnant. I eat whenever I can, whatever I can. Peeta only works twice a week now, and only for a few hours. He knows that when my cravings hit, he has to be there to take care of what I want, because I always want his baking. I refuse to eat any of the other goods made by the Capitol, because it doesn't even hold a candle to Peeta's goods. I often remind him of how he is such a great baker, and then I demand more baking. He doesn't complain about it, just smiles as he watches me enjoy whatever he has made.

I reach out and run my fingers very gently across his bicep. Peeta freezes and shifts his eyes over to look up at me, but I'm looking at his muscles. A smile stretches across his lips as I bite my lip when he flexes his arm under my fingers. "Peeta, did I ever mention how much I love your muscles?" He's still looking at me, but I'm looking at his broad shoulders, his huge biceps, his large chest, and not to mention the six-pack he is hiding under his shirt and apron.

He smiles as he comes and stands between my knees, "Maybe once or twice." I grab his shoulder and pull his body closer to mine. I kiss him hard, my hands sliding over his upper body. I kiss his jaw line, then under his left ear where he likes it. He chuckles as my legs wrap around his waist, keeping him in place. "Katniss..." His tone is filled with warning, but I ignore it.

"Peeta, take your shirt off." I mumble as I continue to kiss under his ear.

"Kat, do you really think that's the best thing?" I nod franticly as Peeta pulls his head away from my lips. I look at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him. He sighs and shakes his head. "Love, I think your hormones are acting up."

My eyes narrow into little slits. "What's that supposed to mean?" I pull my feet out from behind his back, and his right hand shoots to his head, running his flour-covered fingers through his hair, and then rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Uh...nothing?" I cross my arms over my chest and glare at Peeta. How dare he insult me? My hormones are not acting up. I am perfectly fine! He is just being ignorant.

"Screw you," I say bitterly, still glaring at him. He sighs, running his hand though his hair again, making it stick up at weird angles. I resist the urge to laugh, and scoff instead.

Peeta looks at me, "Katniss, I'm sorry." I feel the knot rising in my throat, and I turn my eyes to look up at the ceiling as tears form in my eyes. "No, no, no, no, don't cry, love, don't cry."

I feel his arms wrap around my waist, and I accept his hug, laying my closed eyes down onto his shoulder as tears slip down my cheeks. "Shhh, it's okay, Katniss, it's okay. I'm sorry, I never meant to make you cry, love. Never." I smile as he says this, silent sobs making my body shake. Peeta rubs my back, whispering sweet-nothings into my ear.

"If I take my shirt off, will you relax? Go back to eating your cupcake, and I'll go back to kneading?" Peeta asks, pulling back to look at my face. I nod, wiping the tears from my face. Peeta sighs as he unties his apron and pulls it off, and then takes his shirt off, folding it neatly and placing it on the table. "Happy?" He asks me, walking back to his dough. I nod and graciously take a large bite out of my cupcake.

Maybe I have been a little moody lately, but Peeta doesn't seem to mind. He is there for me while I am bitching about every little thing, then crying over it. I really appreciate it, even if I don't mention that to him. He understands that I am grateful for him, even when I don't say anything.

I continue to eat my cupcake—and two more—very happily while I wait for Peeta to finish kneading the dough and put it into the oven. He puts the oven mitts on top of the stove, then comes and stands in between my legs. He smiles as I take the last bite of my cupcake. "I'm taking it you liked them?"

"Mhhumf."

I sigh heavily through my nose as Peeta gives me an amused look. I nod my head and Peeta smiles up at me again. His eyes shift toward the ground as he lets out a stifled giggle.

"Wha?" I ask, swallowing the cupcake.

He looks back up to my mouth, "You have frosting all over your mouth."

I stay still as Peeta puts his thumb to his mouth and licks it, and then rubs my chin. His eyebrows dipped downward in concentration, his eyes narrowed just slightly. I watch him as he licks his thumb again, and then wipes my chin a final time. "There."

"But, I thought you said that I had frosting on my-" I jump a bit as Peeta suddenly kisses me. I relax after a moment, my eyelids fluttering shut as I wrap my arms around his neck. It's the moments like these that I crave every day, no matter what mood I may be in. It's just something about his lips that just had my attention. When I'm not staring at his lips, I am thinking about his kisses. When he is kissing me, I will be cherishing the feeling of his lips touching mine.

I gasp as Peeta's tongue swipes over my once-closed lips. He pulls back and sighs, "Mhm... Your right. I am a great baker." I smile as Peeta shoots me a cocky look. I roll my eyes as Peeta lets out a chuckle.

I rest my head on his bare shoulder, nuzzling my nose into the crook of his neck. "Peeta, I'm tired." I hear Peeta sigh, and then he pulls back from our embrace. His left arm stays behind my back as his right arm swoops under my legs and lifts me into the air, bridal style. I smile to myself, resting my head on Peeta's chest as he brings me up the stairs and into our bedroom.

He sets me gently on the bed, and I lay down. He kneels close to the bed, his hands finding one of mine. He holds my left hand between both of his, and then kisses it. I let a small tired smile tug at my lips, but it barely tweaks up when I begin to yawn.

Peeta gets up and kisses my forehead, "Goodnight, love."

"Peeta."

"Yes?"

"Stay with me..."

I hear his body turn back towards me, "Katniss, I have to go clean up the mess I made down stairs. And the cheesy buns will be done soon. You don't want them to burn, do you?"

"Well, no... Can you at least sing to us now, rather than later?"

I see a smile tug at the corners of Peeta's lips. He never goes to bed before singing to us. Us—me and the unborn baby.

He comes over to the bed and lies down on his side as he kisses the corner of my mouth, "Try to go to sleep, love."

I close my eyes, letting Peeta's deep, yet sweet voice put me to sleep.

6 Months into Pregnancy

"Peeta!"

The scream escapes my lips as I feel my stomach retch with pain. I feel it convulsing beneath my abdomen. I scream as another wave of pain hits my stomach.

"PEETA!"

I feel him sit up quickly in the bed next to me. He franticly looks around the room, but relaxes when he sees me struggling against the covers of the bed.

"Shhh, it's okay, Katniss. Not real, Katniss, not real."

I scream in pain again as I see Peeta's face morph from tired to confused. "Real, Peeta, it's real." I say when the wave of pain ends, sitting up and putting my hand in between my legs. The space was wet, and warm, very warm. Before I can process anything, feel the pain slowly creeping back.

"Katniss, wha-"

I scream again in agony as I feel my stomach tighten. My hands fly up and grasp Peeta's arm as the pain hits me like a pile of bricks. Tears trace their way down my cheeks as I squeeze Peeta's bicep.

When the pain stops, I loosen my grip a bit on Peeta's arm, and my hands slip due to the liquid.

"What the-" Peeta quickly turns on the bed-side lamp. His eyes widen when he sees the blood on my hands. He rips the covers back off my body, revealing the blood seeping from in between my legs. Tears start to fall faster from my eyes as the words creep into my brain. "Peeta, doctors..."

Before I can even try to catch my quickening breath, Peeta has jumped out of bed, thrown on a shirt, and is picking me up. He takes me quickly down the stairs and out the front door. His pace quickens as I scream again as soon as the door shuts. He barely makes it out of my lawn before the front door to Haymitch's house is thrown open and the drunkard steps out, a knife in his hand. His eyes widen as soon as he sees my white pajama pants now soaked red, and Peeta's scared face.

"Hospital. Now," he says, coming over to try to help Peeta carry me, but Peeta refuses and begins to run with me in his arms. I turn my head, and see a blurry Haymitch chasing after us. My vision goes blank as another pain wave hits my stomach.

Peeta P.O.V.

I sit with my head between my hands, my thumbs wiping the tears from my eyes. I am scared for Katniss; I am scared for our baby. I have never seen anything like this before. I don't understand what has been happening.

I ran here—the new District 12 hospital—as fast as I could, Haymitch trailing behind me. As soon as we burst through the doors, the nurse's eyes went dark, and she immediately called for help. They took Katniss from me. She was rolled away on a stretcher. I tried to follow, but the nurses held me back, promising me that she would be okay.

So here I now sit, blood from the woman I love stained into my shirt and covering my arms, clueless of what could be happening behind the closed doors.

My hands wring my shirt as I watch the people walk past me. I frown as a vision begins to make its way into my mind as I watch a happy couple walk out of the hospital with a baby in their hands.

Blue eyes; brown, wavy hair. A little boy. His smile is radiant as he hops on the bed, waking Katniss up from her sleep. She kisses his head, smiling and hugging him close, then smiling up at me.

I snap back into reality as the doctor walks out of the double doors. I quickly stand up and wipe the tears from my eyes, then looking as the doctor begins to speak. "Mr. Mellark, I'm sorry." I feel Haymitch come stand next to me, my mind blanking out as I watch the professional's lips speak words at me. I catch the words "miscarriage" and "I'm sorry," before I take off through the doors. This time, no one even dares to stop me.

I burst into her room just as the tears enter my eyes. Her grey eyes look up at me, and a cry almost escapes my lips. Her eyes are hollow, her face streaked with tears. Her voice cracks as she says my name. "Peeta," I don't move from my spot at the door, "Peeta, I lost him."

I take two steps toward her bed before I start bawling.

Katniss P.O.V.

Hollow; empty; broken; those were the only words running through my mind as I lay on the floor in the nursery. I cried all the way back to the house, but Peeta tried to stay strong for me. As soon as we got through the door, I ran upstairs into our room. I bawled, tears racking my body. Peeta came in eventually and held me, hushing my cries. Later, he fell asleep, but the feeling of emptiness in my stomach didn't allow me to try to chase sleep. I found myself on the floor of the nursery, crying quietly.

"Where'd you go, Damian? Why did you leave your Daddy and me here?" I ask aloud, clutching the teddy bear Gale had sent for the baby to have. His small hands would never hold it, his little eyes never to see us. His small body never to be held in my arms.

I turn to see Peeta standing in the door way, his blood-shot eyes filled with tears. I wipe my face and sniffle. In a matter of seconds Peeta's arms are wrapped around my, holding my body close. He buries his head in my neck, just as the sobs escape my body. I know he's crying, too, when I feel the tears streak across my shoulder. We sit there for the longest time, clutching the bear between us and crying. Peeta finally breaks the silence and pulls away from me. "We can't forget Damian, Katniss. We can't ever forget him."

I shake my head, looking into his blood-shot eyes. "I won't."

He kisses me softly, then pulls away and lies with me. His hand finds my stomach, and he begins to sing the ending of the song he always refused to think about, let alone sing.

"You were just a small bump unborn for four months, then torn from life. Maybe you were needed up there, but we're still unaware as why."

Epilogue:

Ten years later

I smile over at Katniss as we watch the little girl and boy run through the meadow. She smiles at me, shaking her head. I smile more, crawling over the picnic blanket to kiss her neck, "What?"

She laughs lightly, saying, "Peeta, stop it," but not making any move to end my actions. I kiss her collarbone, just where she likes it. She swallows hard, trying to hold back the moan she is dying to release. "Peeta Mellark, stop it now. I will not have you seducing me in the meadow."

I smile as I kiss her lips, "You didn't seem to mind it until now, Mrs. Mellark." She scowls and pushes me so I fall onto the grass.

"Momma! Don't hurt Daddy!"

I laugh as our ten-year-old brown haired blue-eyed girl, LillyAnn, runs up and helps me up. Katniss looks shocked, and opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off, "Yeah, Momma. Don't be rough with Daddy."

Katniss glares at me, "I will be rough with Daddy."

I raise an eyebrow at her as my shoulders shake with laughter. She's about to ask me why I'm laughing when her eyes get big. I laugh harder as her face turns red and she slaps my shoulder. I smile and lean in to kiss her, but stop right before I do, and whisper, "Save it for later, Kat." She opens her mouth just as I kiss her.

"Ewwwwww."

I smile and pull back just as our blond-haired, grey eyed five-year-old son, Xavier, comes and sits next to his sister. I pull both of them into a bear hug, and they giggle wildly.

"All right, all right. Settle down now." I let go of our kids as Katniss tried to get them to wind down a bit. I lean over and whisper to the kids, "Momma's a party-pooper."

They giggle and Katniss glares at me again. I return the favor with a wink; she blushes and tries to hide her flustered face behind her curtain of long hair.

"Okay, kiddos, so you know why we're here, right?"

LillyAnn nods, but Xavier shakes his small head, his light blond curls falling into his eyes. I smile, brushing them back so they were out of his eyes. "Xavier, we were supposed to have an older brother, Damien. But Momma got sick, and the baby went to heaven with Aunt Prim, Grandpa Everdeen, and Grandpa and Grandma Mellark."

"Oh." The little five-year-old says, looking confused and a little sad. "Well, was Momma okay?"

I smile gently and look over at Katniss, she has a sad look on her face, and she was zoned out. "Yeah, Momma was eventually okay. I was, too. But Mamma didn't want any more babies for a loonngg time." I stretch the word out, trying to keep the air a little light.

Xavier nods and then looks over to where Katniss is staring. A small tombstone, barely bigger than a textbook, is sitting on the hill overlooking the district, now renamed New England, something it was called hundreds and hundreds of years ago.

Katniss smiles and looks down at our thoughtful kids. "We still love Damian very much, though. So we celebrate the day he died every year."

Xavier nods then whispers to LillyAnn. She nods her head and whispers back to him. The two kids are very close, just like Katniss and Prim used to be.

I smile gently at Katniss, wrapping my arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and then kissing her head. After all these years, we can finally settle into a few long years of normalcy. She smiles up at me, kissing my lips gently. "I love you." I was never going to get tired of hearing that.

"I love you, too."

I am about to kiss her again when I hear LillyAnn clear her throat. Katniss and I look over at her. "Xavier has a question." She makes a "go on" gesture to him then smiles happily.

"What's up, little man?" I ask.

"Where do babies come from?"

Like I said, complete normalcy.


End file.
